


A Life of Passions

by scargott



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: All Around Music Nerd Otabek Altin, Alternate Universe, Ballet Dancer Yuri Plisetsky, Bisexual Otabek Altin, DJ Otabek Altin, F/M, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Otabek Altin centered, Otabek is Dramatic btw, Otabek is growing as a person okay, Pianist Otabek Altin, Slow Build, so is yuri, they all are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 07:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11550141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scargott/pseuds/scargott
Summary: When Otabek was a child, he fell in love with music.He felt like his love for music was something that was intrinsically in his being. Otabek could feel it manifest in his soul, and that it was present in every aspect of his life. He thought his destine was set on stone, and music would be his only passion.That is, until one day a green eyed, bad tempered Russian ballet dancer came into his life.





	A Life of Passions

**Author's Note:**

> You can blame my stupid ass job and my stupid ass classes for this stupid ass fic. I wanted to write something Otabek-centered, and also explore Yuri as a ballet dancer. I've been taking ballet classes for 18 years now, and wanted to explore more this art form that I love dearly.
> 
> That said, I feel like I took a lot of creative liberty on this work. I put myself and my friends in small mannerisms in the characters a lot, but I hope they are not badly written. I love Alternative Universes, and really wanted to explore a new style of writing, so. Consider this fic an experiment.
> 
> A small reminder that English is not my first language, and that I suck at writing summaries. I hope you like this work!

            When Otabek was a child, he fell in love with music.

            He could not pinpoint the exact moment when it happened, but he felt like it was an ever-present feeling in his life. Maybe it was because of his mother, who played piano pieces at their home whenever she felt emotional – something that always reflected on the way she moved her fingers, on the way her body contorted and relaxed with each note, on the way her eyes seemed pour every thought she was thinking.

            Maybe it was because of his father, and how he would turn on the radio to whatever station he felt like listening to whenever he got back home from work. From time to time it would be something boring, such as a news station or another, and Otabek would sulk while his father napped on the armchair in the living room. But sometimes he would put on a station that played blues, or rock, or even those classic 60s pop, and he would try to teach Otabek some dance moves, even bringing his mother and sister into the mix from time to time.

            Most of the times, though, Otabek felt like his love for music was not something that could be simply justified by nice memories from his early life. Rationally, he knew that it made sense to think that: there was probably some Freudian explanation that involved things that even he himself could not remember. However, if asked – and if he ever had the courage to say something so cheesy out loud – he would answer that his love for music was something that was intrinsically in his being. Otabek could feel that music manifested in his soul, and was present in every aspect of his life.

             But the fact was, his first real contact with musical instruments happened when he was four. His mother had noticed his clear interest on her piano playing, and she promptly started teaching him then. She wasn’t a professional piano teacher, and eventually, when it became clear that Otabek needed more help, he started taking proper lessons. And when it became clear that Otabek was interested in other instruments, he started studying them, too.

            He would never call himself a musical prodigy, or anything as dramatic as what people said whenever he told them that he could play four instruments. People would get starry eyed with the number, but didn’t understand that, to Otabek, being connected with music was not extraordinary feat, or “a level of dedication that probably required you to sacrifice many other opportunities in your life”; it was his natural path, and the only way he could think of to live his life.

            Living out of music, though, does not abide well with a capitalist society. And jobs, when they did come, were often underpaid, and always tried to drain every single ounce of energy he had in his body. Not to say that his parents were not happy – after all, breaking the carefully constructed throughout the years linage of engineers and “staining the family’s name” _was_ a dramatic change, and Otabek did not expect a better reaction from them, to be fair. He wasn’t kicked out or disowned, and they still loved each other dearly, but it was clear that they never fully understood his choices, and thought that he was wasting his intelligence on a path that would never make him fully successful.

             And, to be fair, Otabek partially agreed. He did not think that it was a waste of his time, but he knew that he would never be famous, or rich, and that was okay. During his childhood and adolescence, even though he could play other instruments, classical piano had been his passion, and he had come to terms with the fact that being a classic pianist, in the twenty first century, was not the best career choice to have. But the idea of turning his back to it, to turn his back to the image of his mother playing, to the emotions that took over her entire body and soul, brought pain to his core.

            For a long time, he thought his life was set on stone, and he made his peace with that. But maybe Otabek _was_ more dramatic than he thought, because when his second life passion showed itself, and a new path opened up before his eyes, he was first awestruck, then shocked, and then everything seemed to fall into place.

            It started when he was eighteen, and had just got accepted at the NYU music program and was finally leaving his parents’ house. His excitement was easily overshadowed by his nervousness – leaving the small town he grew up in Virginia and going to live in a big city, with big people and big opportunities. He had been “a big deal” on his high school – not the coolest kid, but everyone knew “that quiet foreign kid who could like, form a band on his own” – but he knew he wouldn’t be anything extraordinaire in New York, even less in a program that was full of people much more talented than him.

            His parents were not happy about his choice of major. His father kept going on and on about how the men of the Altin family were scientists, or engineers, and that was what had kept them safe and alive during the old Cold years. How only a career on exact sciences would guarantee him a good life and a safe stay in the United States. And even if he didn’t want to go into science, how Otabek could always study law, or business, or literally anything that wasn’t in the field of the arts – “the arts” always being said with a slightly disgusted tone that was apparent even through the strong Kazak accent.

            His mother felt guilty. She felt like it was her fault for showing Otabek the ways of the piano, and for having always encouraged him when he came up with a different instrument to play. She wasn’t as vocal as his father about her disapproval – though he could see the sadness on her eyes, she tried to be supportive for his sake, which made him feel even guiltier. One day, however, he was able to hear them discussing in hushed tones in the kitchen about his future, and her confession that maybe “she shouldn’t have let him stay in his comfort zone”.

            Otabek almost gave up on music then. He was intelligent enough to get into an engineering program, and would probably be able to get a mundane job and have a mundane life. His parents would be happy, and he would live stably. They had already had too many preoccupations, and worries, and there was no need for Otabek to add a “bohemian lifestyle” to that list.

            After thinking it through for some time, Otabek finally voiced his worries to his closest friend in high school. Leo de la Iglesia had stared at him for many seconds afterwards, his blurred black eye pencil hardening the look to a level that Otabek, who was not that easily intimidated, had to look away. He could feel his cheeks redden, and started playing some broken tunes on his bass guitar to distract himself. Eventually, he had been able to lose himself to the notes, and had thought that Leo would let the subject go, but then he heard his friend’s voice, sure and clear:

            “That would kill you.”

            And that was exactly what Otabek needed to hear. He confronted his parents then, and, with a certainty to his voice that to this day he did not know where it came from, told them that he would pursue music, and that if they did not want to support him, he would do it without them. When, in answer, his parents hugged him, and confessed that they would always be there for him, no matter what, Otabek was surprised. And then confused. And then relieved.

            (Years later, when returning to this moment, Otabek would understand why they acted that way. Losing contact with family members and never again seeing them had not been a fantasy to them, but a reality. How they would do anything on their power to never let it happen again, and that saying “we will always be there for you” really did mean that they would always be there for him).

            And when Otabek had received an acceptance letter to one of the best music programs in the country – that so happened to be in one of the best universities in the country in general – his parents’ excitement stopped being so forced and became more genuine. His father proudly bragged to his uncle and other family friends about how his older son was moving to New York, and his mother took it as her mission to make him look more presentable, and not as much of a “geeky small town foreigner” – in her own words.

            Even Leo, in all his emo-goth glory, had been excited by his news. They had been in the middle of a band practice – or as much of a band as two kids, one in a bass and one in a guitar, could have – when he blurted it out to him. Leo was dumbfounded for a couple of beats, but then had dropped his baby – more commonly known as guitar – to the floor and gave Otabek a bone crushing hug. He then confessed that he had been accepted to Berkeley, and that he could not believe that him and Otabek would be apart after so many years of friendship.

            The only person who was genuinely sad with the news was his sister. Sabina clutched him for almost an hour, tears falling freely on her face. Her honey coloured hair got stuck to her cheeks, and neither she nor Otabek cared that both of them were weeping messes. He knew he was going to miss her – he had taken care of her since she was a baby, and could not imagine not having her hanging on his shoulder from the minute he walked inside his house.

            “You will have to practice the violin without me”, he whispered to her, hugging her even stronger. She nodded, face still hidden on his chest, and they stayed in that position until their mother called them for dinner and they were forced to detangle.

            As most of the soon to be freshmen in any university, Otabek was way too excited with his future. Sure he was nervous, and the rational part of his brain told him constantly that it would probably not be as perfect as he was making it to be, but he still could not stop thinking about how everything seemed to be falling into place. Which resulted in daydreaming about his classes, and his colleagues, and how cool and exciting his new life was going to be. He would finally be with people that were the same as him – people passionate about music, who would understand him when he went into rants on who was his favourite composer (Chopin), or which instrument was the best (the piano). So it came as a surprise when he first got to his freshman dormitory and met his roommate.

            Jean-Jacques Leroy was the most irritating person to ever live. He had a fucking _jingle_ for his own name, which was the most obnoxious thing Otabek had ever heard of. He liked waking up on 5:30 in the fucking morning, only to go jogging and _then_ to the gym. He was athletic, and studied some engineering or another that bored the mind off of Otabek. Otabek would call him the perfect all American boy if he hadn’t been Canadian. He was good looking, popular with girls, irritatingly intelligent, loud, extroverted, and basically everything his parents wanted him to be.

            Otabek had hated JJ with every cell of his being.

            However, JJ did not seem to get the message. From day one, he made an effort to include Otabek on his outings, and Otabek always promptly refused. He wanted peace and quiet, wanted to sleep without being waken up by a stupid chirp alarm clock in the middle of the night and an even stupider and chirpier JJ. To be fair, Otabek was quite sad the first few weeks – he could not have predicted how much he was going to miss home and his family, or how lonely he felt (which was surprising, because he had been certain that he would have made friends easily with other people in the music major) – and maybe he had been lashing out on JJ.

            Okay, he had definitely been lashing out on JJ. He had been so trapped in his own mind, feeling sorry for himself and how easily his introversion had made him even more of a loner than he was before, that he didn’t stop to think that maybe JJ was feeling as lonely as he was, and just had a different way of dealing with his problems.

            But the fact was, one day, a couple of months after his beginning in NYU, he got to the dorm on a Friday night, already dreaming about his bed and noodles, when JJ attacked him and forced him to go out to a party with him.

            “Otabek, come on! You haven’t been to an university party yet, and I _know_ that in a few years, you are going to regret not putting yourself out there more often”. Otabek answered him with a simple unimpressed look (perfected throughout the years, with an arched eyebrow to add to the condescending tone he was trying to silently convey), and JJ simply sighed and added, “I will stop waking you up in the mornings to ask if you want to jog with me for a week”.

            Which, you know, was probably the only thing JJ could have said then to convince Otabek.

            So, with a heavy sigh, an even heavier sense of dread, and the certainty that he was going to regret ever agreeing to it, Otabek rewrapped his black scarf around his neck and nodded towards the door to indicate to JJ to lead the way. The other boy grinned and pulled Otabek out, already starting to blabber about how they needed to buy some cheap beers beforehand because “these house parties are full of people wanting to get drunk, so we have to make sure that we get there _already_ drunk”.

            Another reason as to why Otabek had refused so vehemently before to go to college parties was because whenever people talked about it, Otabek became painfully aware of how inexperienced he was in, well, everything social really. He thought that most people had most of these experiences when they were in high school, but the most rebel thing he had ever done in high school was take a drag of a cigarette from Leo when he was going through his punk phase – and then coughing for almost five whole minutes, and swearing to never try that again.

            His first beer had tasted horrible. He sat there on the street, quietly and angrily staring at the cheap can and wondering _why the hell_ people voluntarily bought that stuff and drank it as if it was water. JJ did not look like he shared his train of thought, chattering about something or other and pretending that Otabek wasn’t full on ignoring him. But then he finished his first can, and the second, and started drinking the third – all under JJ’s insistency, who was probably on his sixth or seventh ones – when they finally decided that they were drunk enough and started to head to the party.

            This was when Otabek’s life changed for the second time. Whilst he had never been able to pinpoint exactly when piano and classical music in general had become such an enormous part of him, he knew that the moment he entered the greasy, student-filled house, full of people that were not in their right consciousness and were driven only by whatever substance they had consumed and human interaction, a new part of him had awakened.

            Okay, here is the thing: Otabek was an introvert. He was naturally quiet, and liked being on his own more often than not. He had never been popular before: the son of first wave immigrants from the old enemy, clearly an outsider. His only friend in high school hadn’t exactly blend in either – a Mexican American goth/punk/emo kid in small town Virginia. His high school self hadn’t been the best looking either. His growth spurt had hit gradually, and he had been that pre-teen with the awkward moustache and lanky limbs for a long time. Even though, in university, he didn’t look as awkward, he clearly didn’t fit in either.

            He knew it would have been inevitable, going to parties in college. A very small part of him had been kind of hopeful - he had wanted to understand what the hype was all about. But even then, he had been certain that he would regret it afterwards, and never want to step in such an environment again in his life. He didn’t like loud noises, he didn’t like people too close and too often, he didn’t like putting himself out there – so it was only logical to think that he wouldn’t like parties.

            So it probably was a comical joke from the universe – a prank to show him that he was way too uptight and needed to push his boundaries a little more. Because Otabek found out that he actually really liked parties. Sure, there were aspects that, with time, he discovered that he was not a huge fan of – like people stumbling into each other, spilling drinks on your clothes, sometimes getting too much in your space too fast – but he could not understand how he had never realised how much _music_ was a part of the entire experience.

            And that is how his first party went – dancing a lot, laughing with JJ, appreciating how light-headed he felt and how bodies were able to resonate music in such a pure and primal form. There was no finesse in the dancing whatsoever (it could probably be best described as a mass of bodies jumping and moving instead of dancing), but it was so clear that it was felt, and from the soul. There was clearly no care about technique, only about feeling the heavy bass, the people around you, and moving accordingly.

            Otabek had never imagined that music could go beyond musical instruments. Sure, he felt music in his soul – again with the cheesiness – but he never thought that other people could feel it too. And he never imagined that someone could _make_ people feel the music they want, and transmit their emotions with not much more than a computer, and mixing different tracks into something new and life inducing.

            At first, he did not think that being a DJ was a thing for him. Actually, Otabek probably would never have thought about going into it until someone insisted he tried it. He liked being part of the crowd, liked going to parties and losing himself on the feeling of being drowned by music. It was like rediscovering his passion for it all over again – he felt giddy, and alive in ways that he had long forgot he could feel. It was like an early-on relationship: everything felt new, and exciting. He would never give up on his piano, or on his passion for classical music, but discovering a new side of it felt incredible.

            Many parts of his life changed after that first party. First and foremost, he started hanging out with JJ more, and actually liking the guy. Don’t get him wrong – JJ was still loud, obnoxious and annoying, but Otabek began realising that under all that, there was someone who cared for his well-being, and was there to support him no matter what. So they began talking, going to parties together, and then one day Otabek decided to join JJ on his morning run and on the gym, and, seemingly out of the blue, it became their thing.

            Adopting a constant exercise routine – and, unknowingly, an amateur personal trainer, who would scold at him if he ever missed a training day, or ate too much junk food – resulted in him finally growing out of his too long limbs and awkward teenage years. Sometimes he would look at himself from an outside position and think how weird it was – he had never thought that he would actually _have_ defined muscles, or be someone who would attract attention by his looks. He had never thought that he would willingly seek out social situations, and like them as much as he did. He had never thought that he would befriend someone like JJ, and end up with a brother and a lifelong friend.

            Life can be weird sometimes.

            But as much as some things had changed, others hadn’t as much. Otabek was still an introvert, and as much as he liked parties, he still needed quiet, alone times to recover. He still loved classical music dearly, and wanted to pursue a career in it. He liked spending time with JJ, but he always said one word to the fifty the other man seemed to say. He loved his family dearly, and was still way too reserved and quiet – or at least, that’s what people told him. Or a variation of it, at least.

            “What do you mean, people say I’m _mysterious_?”

            JJ shrugged, focused on pouring the right amount of cream in his coffee. “I mean, they are not wrong, Beka. You never say shit to anyone, and you always have that intimidating look on your face”. He glanced back at Otabek when the other didn’t answer right away. “See! That’s the one. It’s scary as hell. Even I was afraid of talking to you early on”.

            “I can’t help how my face looks, I was born like this”. JJ snorted at that, spilling his coffee on himself and trying not to laugh too loud. Otabek huffed, irritated at the reaction – and slightly hurt. Did he really look that bad?

            “I’m sorry, so sorry, but gosh, I just imagined a baby version of you with that fuck off face”. JJ said, and snorted again, clearly picturing what he had just said. Otabek huffed, but smiled a bit at that. They left the coffee place – Otabek with a black tea, JJ with a drink that was more cream than coffee – and started walking to the main building slowly, relishing the not-too-cold autumn weather. It was rare, having a moment when JJ wasn’t talking Otabek’s ears off, even if it only lasted a few minutes.

            “But seriously though, Otabek, you should take advantage of it”. JJ continued the conversation, as if it had never stopped. “Mysterious is _such_ a cool thing to be. People think it’s attractive now. Where do you think _that_ comes from, anyway? Because looking like you want other people to die shouldn’t be as popular as it is.” He paused for an instant as if he were thinking, then made an excited noise. “You know what I think? I think it’s all because of Twilight. Everyone wants an Edward, man, just like you.”

            Otabek paused for a few seconds, processing what JJ had just said. “I can’t believe you are comparing me to Edward Cullen” He deadpanned, still a little in shock.

            “What? He’s hot!” JJ looked back at Otabek where the other had stopped, smirking at the look in the boy’s face. “See? That’s the look I was talking about! You look intimidating right now.” He continued walking, not even looking back to make sure that Otabek was following him. “If I didn’t know any better, I would be sure that you wanted me dead. But I know you love me, honey!” he said, turning back to pinch one of Otabek’s cheek. Otabek slapped his hand away, huffing irritably while the other boy walked away, laughing loudly.

            “I think wanting you dead is a constant feeling around everyone who has to interact with you, Jean.” Otabek said, only making the other boy laugh more.

            (He would think about this conversation later on the day, and message Leo to ask if the boy had ever thought that Otabek looked intimidating. He was answered with a simple “ _dude, I wouldn’t have talked to you if I didn’t_ ” which, you know, was a very Leo answer to give).

            And apparently, JJ wasn’t wrong. He started noticing that people had the tendency of cowering away from him, especially those who didn’t know him. People in his classes seemed to leave him alone, but, at the same time, seemed to have some sort of respect to him, whenever they had to interact. The entire situation was weird to him – after years of being ignored in high school, being something other than that was slightly overwhelming.

            He also started noticing that people noticed him, too. And maybe being quiet and reserved was something that people found attractive, just as JJ had said. Not many people came up to him on his daily life – he guessed that he was intimidating, after all – but he was always approached in parties. It was unnerving, in the beginning – not used to the attention, he used to ignore those people because he had no idea what to do –, but after some time he was able to respond to them.

            It was hard, getting to the point where he was comfortable with that. It involved a lot of peer talk from JJ, and, many times, a considerable amount of alcohol. A big part of it was shyness, and a constant stream of thought of “ _oh my god I have no idea what I’m doing_ ”. But there was a small part that was scared as well. Scared of what his family would think, scared of what being with other people entailed, and most of all, scared of being attracted to men.

            Otabek had always thought he was straight, growing up. He found girls attractive, and had even had some crushes during school. When he started going out during university, and when he finally got the courage to respond to the approaches some women made, it was nice. He liked it, so much. Liked feeling the smaller and softer hands touching him, liked feeling their own smaller and softer bodies against his own. Every woman was different – some were rough and intense, others were soft and quiet –, but it was a really nice and weird sensation, being with someone so different from yourself.

            He didn’t know how to feel when men started hitting on him. The idea that another man would be interested in him was so alien that the first few times it had happened, he hadn’t even noticed. He had thought the guys were just overly friendly, offering him drinks and asking him how he liked the party. But no amount of denial from his part could conceal the very clear advances on the dance floor, with roaming hands coming from behind his body and touching places that were not supposed to be touched in public.

            That had made him think for a while. He had never thought about sexuality beyond what the teachers went through in sex ed., or what was socially imposed to him. He had always known that he liked women, but he started thinking back about all the situations in which he had been curious. When his eyes lingered too long on men, and his mind went through all those _what ifs_. He started remembering those hands that should not have been, and how different they felt, how wrong, and so, so right.

            He went back home at that first summer back with all of that in mind. The addition of being with his family – his Kazakh Muslim family – added a new layer of worry and guilt. His parents had been able to support his decision to study music, in the end. They had still been worried, and not fully into the idea, but gave their blessing nonetheless. Having a not-so-straight son, however, might be pushing a little too far.

            JJ mercilessly told him that he had a stoic, mysterious face, but he knew that even though most people could not read him properly, his parents could. And they knew something was wrong with him from the very first day. They didn’t press much – only one attempt to get it out of him that first night, and when he denied that anything was wrong, concerned eyes following him around whenever they were in the same room. Even Sabina hugged him harder, and tried to be there, silently supporting him. All of it just made him feel worse.

            The only person that didn’t treat him any different was Leo. Leo had always had that “no bullshit” attitude and had never been intimidated by Otabek, for which he was grateful. The boy got back in town almost two weeks after Otabek, and by then he already felt his skin prickling from being constantly watched by his family. So as soon as Leo messaged him saying that he had arrived, Otabek told him he was coming over.

            It was weird, seeing Leo after a year of no more contact then messages on the phone and on Facebook. He had changed. His style had been toned down a little in some areas – such as the eyeliner and the ripped clothes – but accentuated in others. He had three ear piercings now, and his shoulders filled his shirt a little better. He looked more grown up, more mature, but the rebel fire in his eyes continued the same.

            Leo clearly didn’t think that Otabek looked the same, though. As soon as he opened the door to let him in, his eyes popped open a little more and he looked Otabek up and down a couple of times. He then snorted, and when he finally met Otabek’s eyes, there was a playful smirk on his mouth. “When the hell did you become a jock?”

            “I’m not a jock.” Otabek answered, looking down at himself. “I just started going to the gym”.

            “You’re right, you’re not a jock, you still wear those stupid round glasses. Come on in, hipster lord.” He went inside, leaving the door open so Otabek could follow. He did, glad that at least one part of his old life was still the same.

            They hung out a lot the first few weeks. Even though none of them were outright sentimental, it was clear that both missed each other a lot. They went back to practising for their non-existent band, and playing videogames in each other’s houses afterwards. Otabek told Leo about his life in New York: his roommate, his classes, the city, how much he liked this more popular style of music now (Leo had snorted then, laughing out loud and saying, breathless “I was joking when I said you were a hipster before, but _oh my god_ dude, you’re such a hipster”).

            In turn, Leo told him about his new life. Apparently, even though he lived in California, Berkeley wasn’t the sunniest place in America, which irritated Leo deeply (“I didn’t leave this place just to go somewhere greyer, dude”). The campus was incredibly nice, and the city more so. He liked taking car trips to San Francisco when he could (“and _yes_ , I know San Francisco isn’t sunny either, but the _vibe_ there is _incredible_ ”).

            The thing that Leo liked the most though, which took both of them by surprise, were the people. Leo wasn’t an introvert like Otabek, but he had a very low tolerance to most people, and was known to voluntarily and blatantly ignore those he didn’t like – who, back home, were a lot.

            “It’s just _weird_ man. Like, I never thought about my origins here, never looked back on my roots. I don’t even _know_ Spanish.” His voice sounded pained on this last part, breaking a little. “My mother’s family went through hell and back to live in this country and to give me a good life, and I don’t know anything about their culture. But in Berkeley, there are so many people like me, you know?” He stopped talking after that, looking at a spot on the wall while Otabek waited for him to continue. “... It’s nice, not feeling left out.”

            They continued playing their game and went back to playfully bickering at each other after that, but that got Otabek thinking about himself. And his roots. And his family. And suddenly the sexuality crisis came back and he started feeling bad all over again. He left not long after, claiming that he had to help Sabina practice the violin and that he would be back the following day.

            But Leo was not one to stay quiet. When, the following day, he opened the door of his house and noticed that Otabek was still on a foul mood, he just glared at him and asked “What the hell is wrong with you?”

            “Nothing is wrong with me.” Otabek answered, keeping his eyes cold and posture stoic. Leo stared hard at him for a couple of seconds, and Otabek stared back just as hard, not afraid of the challenge.

            “If you don’t want to tell me, fine. But I don’t want to spend time with someone who looks constipated and won’t do anything about it. If you want to leave, then fucking do it.” He barked, going to close the door. Otabek quickly put his hands on the door, stopping Leo, and looked down, admitting defeat. Leo stared at him for a long moment before finally reopening the door and leading them to his bedroom.

            “Okay, Otabek, spill.” He said, throwing himself at the desk chair and crossing his arms, a hard look in his eyes. Otabek took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes hard and trying to figure out how to say it. Or what to say – he hadn’t exactly put into words himself what he was feeling. Leo waited patiently, never weakening the force of his stare.

            “I think I might not be straight” Otabek said in a rush, looking at the floor and silently wishing that it would swallow him then and there.

            “Oh. Okay. That’s it?” Otabek’s eyes shot up to Leo’s face. He looked as indifferent as ever.

            “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?”

            “Well, to be honest, I never thought you were straight, but I didn’t want to assume” Leo shrugged. Otabek stayed in a stunned silence for a couple of seconds, processing what he had just said.

            “What?”

            It was Leo’s turn to look confused, “I mean dude, you know I’m gay, right?”

            “ _What?_ ”

            “Oh my _god_ , Otabek, you’re such an airhead” Leo groaned, throwing his head back and letting out a chuckle. “Didn’t you think at least part of the rumours in high school were true?”

            “There were rumours about you?”

            “Seriously?” Leo deadpanned, but still looked like he was having fun with the absurdity of the conversation.

            “I mean, it wasn’t like I talked to anyone in high school but you.” Otabek defended himself, feeling his cheeks begin to redden. “What were these rumours about, anyway?”

            “Oh, you know, the basics” Leo shrugged, sitting more comfortably on the chair. “That we both like to suck dick, which apparently is true”. Otabek spluttered, now sure that he was blushing in full force. “What?”

            “Well, I mean, _I don’t know_ if I like boys.”

            Leo looked confused again. “What do you mean you don’t know? Wasn’t the point of this entire conversation you coming out?”

            “I’m not coming out, I’m confused!” Otabek exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I know I like girls, but then some guys started hitting on me, and sometimes touching, and then I realized that maybe the attention wasn’t unwanted, and what the hell does that mean?”

            “You know bisexuality is a thing, right?”

            “I know, I know.” Leo gave him a look as if he didn’t believe him. “ _I do know_ , but it’s just...” he closed his eyes, trying to put his thoughts into words. “What if I’m just confused? What if I was just drunk, or in the mood, or whatever? I mean-” Leo gave a loud sigh, making Otabek pause. “What?”

            “I swear, you’re such a pain in the ass.” Leo murmured, before getting up from his chair and moving towards Otabek in sure strikes. He paused for a few seconds, searching for any signs of reluctance, before closing the space between them and kissing him.

            It took a couple of seconds for Otabek to recover from his sudden state of shock and respond to Leo’s kiss. When he did, though, Leo took it as a good sign, and pushed him until the back of his knees hit the bed and he had to sit down so not to fall. Leo promptly sat on his lap, and the entire train of actions was so fast and fluid that it made Otabek wonder how many times Leo had done that.

            Kissing Leo was an entire different experience from all the other kisses he had had. He ran his hands on his friend’s back and found hard muscles, and a body structure more similar to his own than he had ever touched. There was something inherently Leo about it as well – maybe the way he fought for dominance, or how he would scrape his teeth on Otabek’s lower lips every now and then just to make his breath hitch. But there were some parts that were so similar – like the fact that Otabek liked this, really liked this, and how his body naturally knew what to do.

            Otabek paused then, softly pushing at Leo’s shoulders so the other boy would take the hint, which he quickly did. He had never looked at his friend’s face so closely before. Otabek had thought that he had stopped with the eye pencil, but a closer analysis revealed that it was actually still there, just in brown instead of black, and not blurred at all, but a fine line above his top eyelashes.

            “So,” Leo’s voice clipped the thin air, breaking Otabek’s train of thought, “you’re awfully quiet, more so than normal. Any feedbacks?” He lifted an eyebrow, not leaving Otabek’s lap but slumping backwards a little, getting more comfortable on his position.

            “No, no, it was great, you’re really good at it.”

            “Thanks.” Leo deadpanned, “I take it you’re not confused anymore, then?” Otabek just sighed and nodded, throwing himself back on the bed and rubbing his eyes under the lenses of his glasses. Leo ruffed at that and got up, clearly angry at the other’s continued silence. “Otabek, seriously, how many fucking times will I have to force you to speak today? Because I swear to god it’s getting on my goddamn nerves-”

            “I don’t want to disappoint my parents.” Otabek choked out, finally voicing his worries and opening his eyes, looking at the blank ceiling of his friend’s room. “I’m already studying music instead of going into whatever it was they wanted me to take, and now I can’t even be the straight son they think I am. Oh my god, they are going to disown me.” He covered his eyes again, frustrated at himself.

            Leo was quiet for a while, and Otabek didn’t bother to move from his self-pitying position. Soon, though, he felt the mattress dip besides him, and Leo’s voice rang, a tad softer than it normally was. “Otabek, listen to me.” he started, waiting for Otabek to drop his hands and look at him. “    I know your parents, and honestly? They would never, in a million years, abandon you. No seriously, _listen to me._ ” He pulled Otabek’s hands away from his face, where they came back to in an attempt to hide his eyes. “They love you, dude, for real. Maybe it will be difficult at first, but I know, _I know_ , they will always be there for you, okay?”

            Otabek sighed again, but this time he looked at Leo’s face – for once without a sign of anger – and managed a little smile “Thanks, Leo. You’re the best.”

            “Don’t mention it, dude.” Leo smiled back, but soon his face returned to its usual sour expression. “Don’t get used to the kissing, though. It was a one-time thing.”

            Otabek huffed. “Sure. Bros helping bros and all.”

            Leo snorted loudly, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. “For real, you _have_ to stop hanging out with that jock so much. You’re even _speaking_ like one of them. Next thing you know, you’re joining a fraternity. Now come on,” he got up and headed to his door, opening it forcefully, “let’s go to the garage and practice until you become a hipster again.”

           

 

            He talked to his parents that night.

            Leo vehemently told him throughout the day that he didn’t need to. That he thought his parents would always be there for him, but that if Otabek didn’t feel comfortable with sharing then, than he could keep quiet. That his sexuality was, above all, a private matter, and he didn’t owe it to his parents. And rationally, Otabek knew he was right, but he also knew that he wanted to talk to them anyway.

            So he did. He sat them down after Sabina had gone to bed, and told them up front that he was bisexual. He then had to explain what bisexual was (because apparently it wasn’t a common knowledge between middle aged Muslim immigrants in small town Virginia, though he thought the name was quite self-explanatory). Even though he had wanted to believe Leo when he said that his parents would still accept him, he couldn’t help feeling scared throughout the entire exchange, waiting for them to kick him out.

            When he stopped talking, they just stared at him, for a long time. After a few minutes, his father got up and turned his back to him, breathing heavily and putting his hands on his face. His mother just stared at him, with hard, teary eyes. Otabek then looked down, feeling his eyes start to burn and an uncontrollable need to go to his room and sob until his throat was raw, his eyes were dry and no feelings were left in his body.

            But then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and his father was looking down on him where he was standing on his side, with a hard expression but gentle eyes. “Thank you for telling us, Otabek.” He squeezed his son’s shoulders lightly. “I won’t pretend this wasn’t a shock, or that I know how to act, but...” he sighed, “but we love you. And we are here for you.”

            He then felt another hand, this time on one of his, which were in fists on the table. This time, it was his mother. “It makes me sad to know that you were afraid of sharing such an important part of yourself with us. But I’m so glad you did. Thank you.” She squeezed his hands, smiling gently while staring deep into his eyes. “We love you so much, Otabek.” And he believed them.

            Life was different from then on. Good different, mostly. It was interesting, finding out about a whole new side of yourself, when Otabek had thought he knew who he was pretty well. And it felt good, not hiding such an important part of his life from the most important people of his life. His parents tried their best to be supportive, and even though they would slip once in a while, they had Otabek’s best intentions in mind.

            He told JJ when they got back to New York. His friend had been busy preparing some protein powder – which was something Otabek absolutely refused to try, it smelled disgusting – when he blurted out “Jean, I’m bi”.

            JJ only glanced up at him for a second, before going back to the task in his hands. “Sweet, dude.” He said, clearly not making as much of a deal out of it as Otabek.

            That’s how their sophomore year started. They continued to share a room, and now that they were already used to each other’s mannerisms and personalities, their friendship only grew. Somehow Otabek managed to juggle his studies with a “social life” – even though he went out frequently, the only person he considered a friend then was JJ. And when Jean-Jacques Leroy, the ultimate college bro, showed up in their room and announced he was dating, you couldn’t blame Otabek for being suspicious.

            Isabella Yang seemed to fall into their lives like a missing piece. Apparently, she and JJ had met in their calculus class, and he had been smitten by her since day one. She was a computer science major, Overwatch aficionado, pansexual, feminist activist and, Otabek suspected, a hacker – when he asked her, she gave him the most innocent look and denied, but the wink afterwards told him otherwise. She was not at all the type of person that Otabek imagined JJ would end up with, but whenever he saw them together, it just made sense.

            And that’s how college went. JJ and Isabella were a constant in his life, becoming a home away from home in more ways than others. Sure, there were other people in his life – Leo, even though he lived on the other side of the country, was always there to make snide remarks about his life through text messages, and Mila, a girl he hooked up with a few times and almost dated, until both of them decided they were better off as friends –, but he never thought it was possible to be as close to people and not have a romantic relationship as he was with JJ and Isabella.

            On their junior year, Otabek and JJ decided to rent a hole-in-the-wall flat instead of moving back into the dormitories. Isabella still lived on campus, but was such a constant presence in their flat that she was basically their third roommate. She changed their routines a bit – it was a normal occurrence to be woken up in the middle of the night by a stream of yelled curses because she was playing a multi-player game online, and if you had told Otabek that he would be constantly found in cuddle sessions with BOTH of his roommates a few years back, either all three of them or with each individually, he would have laughed nonstop for a few minutes. But alas, they were constantly in each other’s spaces, and somehow it didn’t make Otabek tired of their presences.

            Isabella also introduced Otabek to his second passion. They went out to a party one time, and she noticed how much he enjoyed the music.

            “You know you can do that, right?” she asked, taking a sip from her beer.

            “Do what?”

            “That. DJing. You have a nice ear for music, I bet you would rock.”

            “What?” he asked, confused. Somehow, he had never considered DJing – which was stupid, since his life was literally dedicated to music.

            “Yeah. Oh wow, you should definitely try it. I can help set you up. I’m not an expert on this music shit, but I _am_ an overall computer nerd.” She said, motioning to herself with the bottle. “We can figure it out together. It can be our thing. And _ooooooh_ , we should definitely not include JJ, it will be hilarious. He is such an attention whore, he will be so mad!”

            “ _Hey!_ ” JJ, who had an arm around Isabella’s waist and had been listening to their interaction the entire time, turned to her, fake hurt. “I’m not an attention whore. I am just an overall whore for you, babe.” He grinned cheekily.

            “Ugh, I do not need to know the details” Otabek shrugged, faking a chill through his spine.

            “Yeah yeah, Jean, sure” Isabella said noncommittally, rolling her eyes, but squeezing his arm tighter around herself as a sign that she was joking. “But yeah, think about it, okay? I think you would like it.”

            They ended up setting things up on his laptop the following week, and Otabek liked it so much that he invested on some sound equipment not long after. JJ loved the idea of having, in his own words, “his own private DJ”, and, being the bro-dude that he was, he would constantly set up small parties on their flat for Otabek to play in them. They soon started charging for the entrance, and in no time other people started hiring Otabek for their own parties.

            (The first time he received a proposal to DJ somewhere else other than his flat, and receive _payment_ on top of that, Isabella was so excited that she changed her contact name on Otabek’s phone to “My Brilliant and Amazing Manager”, followed by five different heart emojis, which didn’t even fit on the screen but he left it like that anyways. When JJ saw it, he changed his name to “My Brilliant and Amazing Manager’s Boyfriend”, followed by five eggplant emojis. He deleted his entire contact information for a week after that).

            While his influence as a DJ on the college party and small underground night clubs world grew in his junior year, and the three of them went out most days in the week (Otabek to work, JJ and Isabella to just drink and relax), their senior year proved to be much different. The perspective of graduation and the real world out there became much more present, so they all dedicated their last year to their studies, and to what to do when they got out of college.

            Otabek still DJ’d a few times a month, because the extra money never killed anyone. But his main focus went back to being the piano, and he would spend nights on end at the university composing his senior project: a duet for piano and violin, a present to his sister. This, combined with his nature of being aloof to what is happening outside of his own mind, made him not notice how his roommates seemed to be more tense and serious than usual, until one day they sat him down to talk.

            “I don’t have a good feeling about this” Otabek said when the both of them sat across from him on their plastic garden table (they could not afford to get a more appropriate one), looking at their serious faces suspiciously. “You guys are never this quiet. And I don’t think I have ever seen JJ not smile for so long.”

            “Don’t worry, it’s not bad news. Just.” JJ sighed, running his hand through his hair. “News. Changes. And we wanted to talk to you about this.”

            “Okay. Shoot.”

            “You know you are important to us, right? Like, I’m afraid that sometimes you might feel like a third wheel, between me and Bella, but you are as important to us as we are to each other. And we want your honest opinion, because we care about you, dude. A lot.” Otabek had been serious when he said that he had never seen JJ look this somber, but he didn’t think he had realized the importance of this conversation until then. JJ was a very lovable person, and him declaring his love for people was a common occurrence, but the tone he said it in made Otabek very apprehensive.

            “I know. And thank you for that. But please, tell me what’s going on, you are starting to scare me.”

            “I got a job offer. To start right after graduation.” JJ blurted, catching Otabek by surprise.

            “What?!” Otabek exclaimed, looking between the two of them excitedly. “This is amazing! I’m so happy for you, dude!”

            JJ finally gave a small smile, clearly happy with his achievement. “Thank you. It’s not the best job, and definitely not the best salary, but the company provides a lot of opportunities for me to grow professionally. It’s a good first step.” His tone was very professional, and so very un-JJ like, but he soon broke into a grin, not containing himself. “Oh hell, I’m so excited.” JJ smiled, full-on smile this time, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

            Isabella, however, still looked a bit somber, not having raised her eyes from her coffee mug since she sat across Otabek. He glanced at her, not yet understanding what was going on. “What’s wrong, then?” he asked her quietly, trying to entice a reaction from her.

            She raised her eyes, her lips a little downturned. “It’s in the UK. The job is in London.” She answered quietly. Otabek’s eyes bulged, not having expected this at all. “And,” she took a deep breath, reaching to her side to hold JJ’s hand on hers. “I’m going with him. We are moving at the end of July.”

            “We are so sorry, Otabek.” JJ said, reaching across the table to take his hand on the one that wasn’t holding Isabella’s.

            “There is nothing to be sorry about. There isn’t!” Otabek said, reaching out to hold Isabella’s hand at the same time that he squeezed Jean’s. “I’m so happy for you guys. I know that you are going to have an amazing life in London.” Otabek continued, sincerity dripping from his voice. JJ looked bashful, and Isabella looked at Otabek with a watery smile. “I just... will miss you guys so much. I can’t believe we are going to be apart.”

            “I know. And we will miss you, too. You are part of our family.” Isabella answered, with JJ nodding along on her side. “I wish you could come with us.”

            Otabek was happy for them, it was true. He knew how hard it was to find a job right after university, and the fact that JJ managed to do that, and in his professional area, was amazing. Isabella told him she was going to continue to work as a freelancer coder, which he didn’t even know was a thing she did (he was more and more sure that she was secretly a hacker). They both were paving their way towards a successful, happy future. But he couldn’t deny that a small part of him was hurt that they were going to be away from him. They truly were family.

            He tried to hide his foul mood from them throughout the week, and he was quite successful – mainly because he spent so much time away from the flat, needing a piano in order to compose his piece. He knew he was isolating himself, and he knew JJ and Isabella became worried – they would send him text messages asking if he wanted to order pizza with them, or watch some stupid cartoon on Netflix throughout the night. One person he couldn’t escape from, however, was Mila, who saw right through his bullshit and asserted herself over him.

            Mila was a good friend, Otabek thought. They had met at a party and he went to her place that same night, spending the entire weekend there. He was very selective with the people he spent time with, and usually he got tired of the presence of people he didn’t know very easily, but Mila had always been a comforting figure for him. Since day one they got along so well that the first few weeks of them knowing each other, Otabek would spend a lot of his free time at her place.

            In the beginning, it might have been the sex that drew Otabek to her – they were good at it, he knew that. But as time passed, they would spend more and more of those moments together just hanging out, sometimes not even talking. Otabek admitted that he was relieved when, one day, she sat him down to talk and said that she regarded him as a friend, and that she was interested in someone else – a girl a few years older than her, whom she met through a mutual friend. They started spending more time apart, but mostly because they were both busy with their own lives. However, they were still close friends, and Mila made sure that they saw each other at least once a week.

            So that was why, at 7am in one of the music rooms, after spending the night there, Otabek was sprung awake when the door shot open, with Mila holding two paper cups and looking as immaculate as ever, even at the early hour.

            “Why are you avoiding everyone?” She said in lieu of greeting. Otabek groaned, rubbing his eyes to chase the sleep away. “Isabella messaged me, said you haven’t slept at home for the past three days. I hope to god you at least go there to shower and change.” She wrinkled her nose, walking towards him and seating next to him on the piano bench. “Nah, you smell as good as ever.”

            “Please tell me one of those is for me.” Otabek pleaded, opening one eye to look at her. She lifted her eyebrow, a smile playing at her lips at Otabek’s obvious tiredness.

            “Yeah. Earl grey, just as you like it. Tell me I’m not an awesome friend.” She answered, taking a sip of her own drink while handing him his. He took it from her gratefully, taking a huge gulp that burned his tongue right away. “So, what’s up with this isolating yourself thing?” She probed.

            “I have to finish this composition until next month.” He said, running both hand through his face. “I could use my own keyboard, but a real piano is so much better.”

            “You know that’s not it, answer me again. And try harder this time”

            Otabek looked at her suspiciously. “Isabella told you, right?” he asked.

            “Yeah” She answered, taking another sip of her drink. “And you know, if you _talked_ to your friends about your problems, you probably wouldn’t be going through all of this sadness thing.”

            “Look Mila, you know I love you, but talking about this won’t make me feel better. What I need right now is to forget about it, and try to finish this _damn_ composition.”

            “You won’t be able to compose a piece to Sabina if all you have on your mind are JJ and Isabella. And I wasn’t suggesting we talk about this, you idiot.” She said, pausing dramatically to emphasize her words. “If you talked to your friends instead of hiding your feelings, you might find out that they can help you. For instance, I may have a solution to your problem.” She grinned mischievously.

            “What do you mean by that?” He asked, suspicious.

            “I might know about a job position that you could apply to. In London.”

            “Wait, what?”

            “Well, you know how I used to dance classical ballet when I was a kid, right? I was really good. Like, I used to compete. And yes, there is such a thing as ballet competitions. But the thing is,” she rambled, turning fully towards him with excitement. “When I was like, 10 or 11, I went to a summer training camp, and I met this guy and we became friends. We kept contact throughout the years, and nowadays he is a teacher slash coach at a ballet studio in London. He recently posted on Facebook that they were looking for a pianist, and I think you could apply.” She smiled, clearly happy with herself.

            “But I have never played any ballet compositions.” Otabek said.

            “Yeah, trust me, it’s not that hard. I messaged my friend about it, and he said that the pianist they need is for their day to day classes, which is basically for these really simple songs. You don’t need to know the spectacle ones. You are an amazing pianist, Otabek. I bet you will get it.” She said, putting her hand on his shoulder. He smiled at her. “Also, I can put in the good word for you.” She snickered. “Victor is amazing, he can get you in.”

            “I never thought of myself playing for a ballet company.” Otabek admitted, crossing his arms as he considered the idea. “But to be quite honest, it’s not like I can afford the luxury to choose what I want to work with, right?”

            “Yeah dude! That’s the millennial spirit!” she answered excitedly. “Jobs that pay the rent, that’s what we should aim for.”

            “Who cares about passion, right?” Otabek said ironically. She huffed, taking the last few gulps of her drink.

            “Honestly Otabek, you’re so lucky we were able to find something in the music industry for you. And you will play the piano, which is like, the love of your life. Stop whining and be grateful.” She snapped while messing with his hair – which she knew he hated.

            “Ugh, stop.” He pushed her away playfully. “I was joking, relax. I loved it, thank you Mila.” He said truthfully.

            “I told you I was an amazing friend.” She answered, smiling cheekily. “So, rehearse these.” She took a pile of compositions from her bag, throwing them at Otabek ungracefully. “And we will record you playing them next week to send to Victor. I have high hopes for this.”

            Mila was right. The following month, between the stress and desperation of performing his composition (his parents, Sabina, JJ, Isabella and Mila went to watch him, and it was one of the best moments in his life, seeing their smiles and tears afterwards) and taking his last final exams of university ever, he received an email one day from one Victor Nikiforov. He saw the notification on his phone when he woke up, and what was written took a few moments to get into Otabek’s groggy, sleep-driven brain.

            He had gotten the job.

            When he realized what the words he was reading meant, he bolted out of bed, suddenly awake, and barged in on JJ and Isabella’s room. They were sleeping, but he didn’t care, throwing himself on their bed between them. They didn’t care either, when he finally told them the good news. They were going to move to another country together, all three of them. They celebrated the entire weekend, even including his family – who were still at New York for Otabek’s graduation – in the mix.

            The entire moving was very rushed, but exciting. They didn’t have a lot of things to take with them – they were university students, they didn’t have much at all to begin with. The worst part was figuring out how to take Otabek’s violin and guitar with them, but that was soon dealt with. They only had a month to take the necessary precautions and bureaucracies, so it seemed as if on a blink of an eye, Otabek was suddenly living in London with his two best friends.

            He had never thought his life would lead to that moment. Moving to another continent was so out of his reality, that he had no idea what to expect from it. He felt like life threw all of this, this future he never planned for, on his lap, and he was simply working his way through it. It felt like the beginning of university all over again – he was scared, but excited, and had no idea what was waiting for him.

            He never even considered that he would find love there.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at scargott.tumblr.com


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